


Just Casual

by abigail89, starry_eyed_fics, weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-28
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_eyed_fics/pseuds/starry_eyed_fics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones have been invited to a small New Year’s party by Philip Boyce. Only problem as far as Bones is concerned? Christopher Pike is going to be there and he hasn’t seen Chris in person for over six months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Casual

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** need you ask? The ever awesome and oh, so amazing abigail89. Don’t know what I’d do without her!  
>  **A/N:** Fill for LJ comm, pikemccoy’s Holiday Fic-athon and my schmoop bingo square _playing instrument._ I also want to thank zauzat for letting me use her character, Surgeon General Victoria Turnbull. She’s just so fabulous, she needs to be canon!  
>  **Disclaimer:** The characters and universe belong to the Creator himself, Roddenberry, and possibly Paramount and other Corporate entities. I am only borrowing the characters and universe so they can come out and frolic a bit, not intending any copyright infringement of any sort. I do own my original characters, but they are available for parties!

“Bones! Aren’t you ready yet?”

Leonard looked up as Jim loped into his bedroom, his face heating as he stood there with his torso bare holding two shirts, while Jim was fully clothed in black leather pants and jacket over a too-tight white t-shirt.

Jim snickered as his eyes landed on Leonard and shook his head. “What the hell is taking so long? I’ve been waiting for-freakin-ever, Bones.”

“Shut it, Jim. I don’t make a habit of wearing civvies and I don’t want to look like an idiot tonight.” He jammed his arms into the ebony-colored button up and pointedly ignored Jim’s smirk as the olive green shirt fluttered to the floor. “What the fuck are you wearing, anyway?”

“It’s no big deal, Bones. A small party. You could wear your uniform, if it’d make you feel better. And just when did you get so out of sorts? Thought you’d be walking on air the whole time we’re dirt-side.”

Leonard took a deep breath and finished buttoning up his shirt, unconsciously leaving an extra one undone. He slipped his feet into loafers as he tucked the shirt tail in. He finally turned back to Jim, growling as he buckled his belt. “A small party with admirals and my superior officer, kid. Not exactly my idea of ‘relaxing’.” He straightened the pockets of his jeans and looked up. “I’m not the one that’s been twitchy. You need to get laid, or go do one of those ‘extreme’ sports you like so much, asshole. You’re climbing the walls and trying to take me with you. What the hell’s the hurry, anyway?”

Instead of flinching back, Jim stepped forward, crowding into his personal space, his eyes laser bright. “Twitchy? Me? That’s rich coming from the guy who made Portman flee the toxicology lab.” He snorted. “Pot. Kettle. We’re both stuck here for the next few weeks until this shit blows over, so can we just stop taking it out on each other?”

Leonard sagged and pursed his lips. Sighing, he wrapped an arm around Jim’s shoulders, feeling the tension in them, even through his old battered leather jacket. “Sorry.”

Jim elbowed him lightly and tapped their foreheads together. “It’s okay, man. I just don’t get why you’re so tightly strung. I thought you’d prefer a laid-back party to a bar crawl.”

Leonard pushed Jim away and turned to the mirror, running a comb through his hair again. It was just a shade too long and one stubborn lock insisted on falling into his eyes no matter what he tried. Suddenly, long fingered hands were reaching up and tousling his hair from behind, Jim’s eyes laughing at him when their gazes met in the mirror.

Before he could react and shove Jim’s hands away, Jim darted out of his reach. “Dammit!”

“Lighten up, Bones. You look better with bedhead than that old-man hairdo, anyway.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” He reached for the comb again, but Jim pulled him toward the door.

“C’mon. I’m not going to be late.”

“Thought you said it was no pressure? Just a casual get together at Boyce’s?” Leonard allowed himself to be pushed out of his quarters and tried to ignore the little voice in his head that was screaming at him that this was such a bad idea. He did manage to snag his own leather jacket before Jim shoved him over the threshold.

“It’s not a big deal, but Chris is still my C.O. and Boyce is yours. Best to make a good impression. Besides, it’s rude to be late. Thought you were a Southern gentleman, Bones.”

“Fine.” McCoy crossed his arms over his chest as they stepped out of the building and into the gradually darkening evening. The officers’ quarters were right by the water and the brisk autumn breeze played with his hair, taking the mussed strands and further tousling them. He looked around for their loaner hovercar – rank had its privileges, after all – but it was nowhere in sight.

Turning to Jim with his forehead creased, he asked. “Where’s the car?”

When Jim gave him that lazy, easy smile, Leonard’s heart stopped. That never signaled anything good, and almost always meant that Jim was going to do something that Leonard would regret. Jim stepped to the curb and began taking long strides around the corner of the building.

Leonard, startled, rushed to catch up. “Jim? What the fuck?” he growled out, but stopped as he turned the corner into the alley. There, bigger than life, was a shiny, bright, two-wheeled motorcycle, all chrome and black leather. He gulped when Jim straddled the seat and dared him with his eyes and cocky grin.

Leonard’s eyes widened and he shook his head, backing away, his hands lifted to shield himself. “Oh no! If you think I’m going to trust you on that—”

Jim just smirked and started the engine, the roar echoing loudly against the buildings before it settled to a quiet purr. “Got no choice, Bones. It’s not a hoverbike, thought you’d appreciate that at least.”

“Goddammit, Jim!” Leonard hissed even as he continued walking, following James T. Kirk into whatever trouble might come, just as always.

He settled onto the seat, pulled on the helmet and instantly heard Jim’s throaty laughter in his ear. “You told me to deal with my need for an adrenaline rush. Just followin’ doctor’s orders.”

Before Leonard could argue that _he_ didn’t need an adrenaline fix, Jim lifted the kick stand and eased the machine forward. Leonard tilted backward and clutched tightly to Jim so that he didn’t fall off. “Warn a guy, asshole!” he cried out, clinging tighter as Jim turned onto the street and gunned the engines. Aided by the nav system Jim was propelling them through traffic with an easy confidence and an insanely high rate of speed that kept Leonard’s heart in his throat until they hit the highway and the traffic thinned. They sped up, but at least there was more than millimeters between his legs and the other vehicles surrounding them.

Once the sheer white terror had faded, he sucked in a deep breath and smacked his helmet against Jim’s. “Don’t.Ever.Do.That.Again,” he growled through the comm system, his hands wound tightly in Jim’s jacket as the landscape whizzed past.

“Ouch! Dammit, Bones! We’re fine!”

“Says you. I’ll only be perfectly fine when my ass is not clinging to a two-wheeled death trap driven by an insane adrenaline junkie! Where the hell is this party anyway?”

“Didn’t you read the invite, Bones?”

He had to confess that he hadn’t, not really. The anxiety attack from merely receiving the personal invite from Captain Philip Boyce, Chief of Xenoneurosurgery, knowing full well that Admiral Christopher ‘I want to do bad things to you’ Pike would be there had made it a bit difficult for him to do more than skim the date and time.

Jim caught his silence, which, even with the wind rushing past them was loud in the helmets. “Hey, Bones, why the cold feet?”

“I didn’t say—”

“Nope, you didn’t. You’d never actually say it out loud, would you? Damned passive, aggressive Southern manners!” Jim huffed, his voice tinged with amusement. “So what’s up, Bones? Talk to me.”

“Jim,” he said, using his best “do not fuck with your CMO voice”, trying to forestall the coming questions.

“Don’t. Don’t bullshit me, Bones. It’s good to let your hair down and get to know the bigwigs outside of a comm link. No pressure, just a nice casual dinner and drinks. We’re not on the clock, and it’s New Year’s Eve – got to ring it in with style.”

“Jim… I’m just not—”

“You’re just not what? Not good at making polite conversation? I know that’s BS. As much as you want to claim you’re just a country doctor, you’ve got more breeding that most of these folks ever thought about.”

“Boyce is my boss and Admiral Pike was my patient. This is bound to be awkward.”

“Thought you and Boyce hit it off like a house on fire? At least it sure seemed like it during the evals at Starbase 51.”

“I like Boyce. He’s a good guy.”

“Well, what then?”

“Why the hell couldn’t we have just taken up Uhura on her offer?”

Jim’s head whipped around so fast that their visors hit.

“Fuck!” Leonard yelped.

“Sorry. You – you would actually have preferred spending New Year’s Eve with Uhura and Spock and Sarek?”

The sheer level of astonishment in Jim’s voice almost made Leonard laugh, but the heavy stone lodged in his gut just made him grumble.

“Now I know something’s up. Just tell me, Bones. I’ll figure it out anyway.”

“Just drop it, kid.” Leonard prayed that Jim would actually listen for once, but it was a vain hope. He was worse than a snapping turtle with its jaws locked tight when he sunk his teeth into a mystery. Still, Jim was silent for awhile, which was actually worse because then Leonard’s thoughts turned to seeing Chris again and that stone in his gut exploded into full blown anticipation.

Fuck Admiral Christopher Pike anyway! No one had a right to be that intelligent and sexy when laid up in a bio bed after being tortured. And then the arrogant sonuvabitch had to go and prove everyone wrong and make a nearly full recovery simply through sheer force of will!

Leonard swallowed as he remembered his last visit dirt-side for Spock and Jim’s commendation ceremony after the Organian treaty was signed. How Chris had strode into the room, shoulders broader than ever, a strong swagger as he walked, and then their eyes had met. Chris so casually looked him over, stripped him bare, and made his intentions quite clear. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so exposed and knew he’d never gotten so hard so fast.

The worst part was Chris knew exactly what he’d done. His lazy, wicked smile said he was pleased with Leonard’s reaction and his low, husky words in Leonard’s ear later confirmed it.

 _“You were the reason I did it. I got my legs back due to your brilliance as a surgeon, but I worked my ass off to make it stick so that I could fuck you over one of your biobeds. Every day, no matter how much I wanted to give up, I had a goal. You.”_

They’d been interrupted by the Andorian ambassador’s wife going into labor so all Leonard had was the memory of Chris’s breath on his neck and those words in his ear. He still shivered, hot arousal pulsing down his spine and his cock springing to life. He shifted in the seat, hoping Jim couldn’t tell what had happened.

“Bones? You okay?”

“’m fine. My ass is gettin’ numb. How much longer?”

“Not too long,” Jim replied and Leonard could hear the distracted note in his voice. “So, I don’t get it. You liked and respected One when we were on that training run on the Yorkie, the problem can’t be Boyce. You’ve probably played poker at least once with anyone that could possibly be coming…”

His voice trailed off and Leonard swore he could hear the cogs turning and his palms began to sweat. He did not need Jim to figure this out. That would lead to never-ending embarrassment. Jim would make sure of it.

“Jim, just drop it. I’m here, alright?”

“Wait… I’ve got it all wrong, don’t I?”

“Jim,” he cautioned.

“It’s Chris, isn’t it?” Jim crowed.

Leonard heard the laughter, could _feel_ Jim’s smug smile, didn’t need to see it, especially when Jim turned to look at him.

“Get your eyes back on the road, goddammit!” Leonard freed one clenched hand and whacked Jim upside the head.

“Hey!” Jim then broke out laughing. “You’ve totally got the hots for Pike!” He shifted backwards, pressed his ass against Leonard’s rapidly softening cock and chortled. _Fucking chortled!_ “mmmm… bet he’ll be glad to see that coming in the door before you!”

“Dammit, Jim! Shut the fuck up. You sound like a goddamned teenager.” Leonard wanted to get away from Jim’s self-satisfied voice, but he had nowhere to go.

“Nothing wrong with that, Bones. Pike’s smokin’ hot and believe me, you’re not the only one who’s noticed!” Jim was slowing the bike down, readying to turn off the highway, as he continued. “I mean, seriously? I had the worst case of blue balls when he was my advisor, so what does that say about me? Daddy issues?” Jim chuckled. “I mean, I get it. Pike’s sex on legs… and that voice… ordering you around…”

“Shut the fuck up, Jim! That qualifies as over sharing, dammit, and I do not need to hear it!” He snarled back even as his whole face grew heated and his body definitely agreed with Jim. “How the hell do I turn this comm line off?”

Jim’s chuckles echoed in Leonard’s helmet, but his voice was soft as he spoke. “It’s just fucking, Bones. We’ve fucked. It’s no big deal.”

“Goddammit, Jim. That’s different! You’re… well, you’re _you._ You’ll fuck anything with a pulse and we were both just drunk cadets. Pike’s my superior officer.”

Jim shook his head, dirt kicking up behind Leonard as he slid wide on the turn off. “Not unless you know something I don’t. You’d have to fuck me or Boyce to be screwing your superior.”

Leonard clutched tight to Jim’s jacket, gritting out, “Fine. He was my patient. It’s not ethical.”

“The operative word being _was_ , Bones. He’s not your patient now. Hasn’t been for the last year. Hell, if any of that was a problem, the issue’d be _me_ going. So, I promise not to even look crosswise at Pike and you keep your hands off Boyce and we’re golden.”

Leonard laughed. “If I even so much as look at Philip, Number One would have my balls.”

Jim chuckled. “Hell, yeah! No touching what’s hers, if you know what’s good for you. Just chill, have fun, and it’ll all be fine. Even if I think you should go after him, I’ll keep it on the down low.”

Leonard blew out a frustrated breath. “You’ll spend all your leave with purple spots if you dare—”

“Got it! Pike won’t hear a word of it from me,” Jim agreed. If Leonard was thinking clearly, he would have realized that Jim had given in far too easily.

~~*~~

“Chris! What the hell?”

Chris opened his eyes lazily, his fingers stilling against the guitar strings, as he looked up at Philip, a confused frown on his face. “What?”

“You’re not wearing that!”

At that moment Chris looked down at himself. He shrugged. “Looks like I am.”

“Chris!” Number One stepped into the room and laughed. She crossed her arms and put him in his place with one elegantly arched brow. “You couldn’t at least put some shoes on?”

“I’m on leave. I don’t even have to wear clothes. You’re lucky I am.”

“Fine!” Philip threw his hands up and glared at Chris before shaking his head at Number One and stalking off. “Nat, you do something with him.”

Chris wilted a bit under her iron stare. “The holey jeans too casual?” he offered. She nodded her head. “Can I at least wear the shirt?” It was his first Starfleet Academy t-shirt and it had followed him everywhere. It might be barely readable, nearly threadbare, and possibly a bit too tight over his chest and arms, but there were no holes in it and it was clean.

“Chris.” She chided. “Just for tonight suck it up and deal. No holes and no t-shirts.”

Chris grumbled but knew better than to argue with Number One. He had learned that lesson long ago and he was too smart to keep hitting his head against a brick wall. Setting the guitar aside, he stood, grumbling all the while. “’m not putting on shoes,” he muttered as he passed Number One in the doorway.

She laughed. “Just don’t expect Phil to fix any broken toes if you don’t.”

~~*~~

Chris checked his reflection one last time. He looked good and met Number One’s restrictions to the letter, even if he did quite brazenly violate the intent behind those constraints. He turned and grinned. The old, faded jeans cupped his ass and the pale hue and tight stretch made his legs seem longer and more muscular, while the dark steel blue button down made his eyes pop. He left an extra button open, rolled up the sleeves, tousled his hair and headed down stairs.

He knew Philip and Number One had something planned and he wasn’t going to fall for it, but he could have some fun with it along the way.

When he walked into the kitchen and nearly ran over Admiral Victoria Turnbull, Starfleet Surgeon General, he almost turned around and walked out. Not that Victoria wasn’t beautiful and feisty, but she was not his type, and Philip knew that.

When he cornered Philip in the den, he was relieved to learn that Victoria had brought a date, some local musician. He took a sip of the sole bourbon he was allowed for the evening and wondered just what was going on, but quickly forgot his suspicions when he met Harry and was almost immediately engrossed in a discussion of jazz versus blues, his guitar quickly coming out to illustrate a point.

Harry, Victoria’s date, had impugned Chris’s beloved old time rock’n’roll and he was well into the second chorus of Eric Clapton’s ‘Layla’ when more guests arrived. Chris didn’t even look up. Harry had joined in, his vocals smooth and easy, while Chris lost himself in the music.

~~*~~

Leonard was thinking about Jim’s words and wondering why he was so afraid of seeing Pike again. He really didn’t like to examine his motives, especially not these, but he had to admit Jim was right. He’d worked himself into a state over something that should be no big deal. But maybe that was the problem? He wanted it to be a big deal and didn’t want to face the idea that it _was_ just fucking to Pike.

Jim slowed and pulled off the road, stopping the bike in front of an old fashioned bungalow. Leonard lifted his head and looked around, taking in the view. The ocean crashed below them, the clouds were low and ominous, the weather unseasonably warm, heralding storms. He tugged the helmet off and tossed it at Jim, growling, “Good job, wonderboy. The sky looks like it’s going to drop on us and I’m not riding back on _that_ in a storm.”

Jim glanced around and shrugged, completely unconcerned. “I better see if they have a garage. Not like I was planning on driving back tonight anyway.”

Leonard stopped in his tracks, one foot on the bottom step. He whirled around. “What?”

Jim dangled the helmets in his hand and clapped Leonard on the shoulder as he passed. “Thought that was assumed. I’m getting shitfaced and not driving until I’m sober. What did you think? That I wasn’t drinking on New Year’s?”

“Fuck! How am I getting home? You could have told me!” Leonard stomped up the steps and stood, glaring at the back of Jim’s head, trying to explode it with the force of his stare.

Jim just pressed the chime and laughed. “Not a chance. You’d be half-way to passed out in your quarters if I’d told you that.”

Leonard wanted to reply, come back with a scathing retort, but the door slid open and there was Boyce, holding a drink and looking casual and quite comfortable.

“Jim! Leo! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming!”

He stepped back, allowing them to walk in. “The kitchen’s this way. C’mon. You’re a few drinks behind.”

Leonard dutifully followed while Jim stopped in the entry. “You got a garage? I have a motorcycle that needs safe keeping.”

Boyce stopped in the kitchen, pushing Leonard forward and turning back to Jim. “Sure. Just follow me. We’ll make sure your baby’s safe.” He set his glass on the counter. “Help yourself, Leo. Nat’s in the den. Make sure you stop there first. Let her know you’re here.”

Then he was gone and Leonard was standing in the kitchen, the large granite counter covered with hors d'oeuvres, canapés, and all manner of finger foods, probably a good idea considering the large and varied selection of booze and wine on the counter. After looking, he found the bottle of bourbon, Woodford Reserve. He smiled, pleased, poured himself four fingers, popped a shrimp and stuffed mushroom in his mouth, and decided to find Phil’s wife, after downing half the liquid courage.

~~*~~

The house was cozy and Leonard easily located the party after passing by the small dining room in which a poker game seemed to have already started. He made sure his feet didn’t even touch the plush carpet in that room. Last time he’d played poker with Boyce and Number One, he’d lost far more than he’d believed possible.

He followed the music, stopping in the doorway, as all breath rushed out of his lungs. Christopher Pike was playing guitar while another man was crooning along. Leonard didn’t realize he was gaping until a husky voice came from behind.

“He’s magnificent, isn’t he? Makes me go boneless and weak in the knees.” The words dripped with admiration and no little desire.

Hot jealousy and annoyance flashed down Leonard’s spine. He might not have any right to Christopher Pike, but he sure as hell didn’t have to take him being so blatantly ogled. But before he could round on the commenter, she continued, “Harry’s voice is like silk. I just want to wrap myself up in it.”

Leonard recognized the voice and pivoted quickly to be confronted with Surgeon General, Admiral Victoria Turnbull. He gaped, his jaws working like a fish on shore. “Ma’am?” he squeaked, straightening, his eyes wide.

Victoria chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “We’re not on duty, Leo. You don’t mind if I call you Leo, do you?”

Leonard shook his head numbly. He wasn’t sure the evening could get any worse. All of his superior officers were here in the flesh and he had no way to flee. He was so going to kill Jim, dismember him, incinerate the pieces, and dance on the ashes!

“Good. I did want to chat about your little ‘stunt’ on Miri’s planet. ‘Physician heal thyself’ is only a motto, Leo. When I read your reports, I often wonder if Captain Kirk’s methods are rubbing off on you.” She turned to look into the room before pinning him with her bright eyes once again. “That discussion can wait. Right now, enjoy the party, Leo. I need to drag my date away from Chris or, I suspect, they’ll both be there all night.”

With that she was gone and Leonard was left stunned in her wake. She might be a petite woman, but she scared him shitless. He finished his drink and turned back to the kitchen. It was going to be a long night.

“Len?”

Before Leonard could move, _that_ voice was breathing against his neck. His whole body tensed as gooseflesh raised on his arms and flashed down his spine. He swallowed and turned, his face heating.

“I do believe I owe Phil and Nat an apology.” Chris was standing there, barefoot and gloriously tousled, his grey-blue eyes mischievous, and Leonard couldn’t move, didn’t want to, but he did hope to actually find words, to not become incoherent every time this man called him by that unique variant of his name.

Chris chuckled. “Cat got your tongue, Len?” He practically purred and Leonard lifted his glass to his lips, desperate for some diversion, for something to get his thoughts back on track. The glass was empty of course and he looked more the fool for it.

Chris’s smile widened and he plucked Leonard’s glass from his hand. “C’mon. You look like you could use another drink.”

Leonard blinked, felt a warm, wide palm on his back as he was urged to the kitchen. Only once he had a fresh glass did he finally find his words. “I’m going to kill Jim,” he said as he sipped at the bourbon. Somehow Chris had known what he was drinking without asking. He wondered what else Chris knew about him.

Chris leaned one hip against the counter, his smile twisting Leonard’s insides. “Is being here really so bad? Nat and Phil laid out quite a spread.”

Chris waved to the overflowing counter and Leonard’s eyes fixated on the flexing muscles of his bare forearms. He swallowed, took another sip of bourbon and shook his head, his mind racing frantically to find words.

“The poker game’s the draw, but I’d steer clear of it if you want to have any credits left. Nat’s dangerous, worse than a Vulcan, and I fear for anyone foolish enough to try to best her and Victoria.” Then Chris gave a wolfish grin, and Leonard felt himself respond to the gleam in those eyes. “Of course, don’t let Jim know. I really do want to see him at that table with Nat, Cait, and Victoria. I suspect they’ll have him stripped of everything, including his clothes, and possibly his command, before the New Year.”

Leonard was so fucked! When Chris laughed like that, his head thrown back and his throat working, he had to grip the counter to keep from climbing the admiral like a tree. Instead he joined in, laughing as his smile lifted evilly. It would serve Jim right if Chris’s prediction came to pass. And Leonard was planning to cheer the ladies on from the sidelines.

~~*~~

Leonard did very little cheering that night. Oh, he dropped by to watch a few hands on occasion, and took great delight in watching Jim get taken for all he had. It was actually very entertaining to watch Jim sweat when surrounded by such beautiful, powerful women. Normally, this was Jim’s element, him in command and the ladies hanging on his every word. To see the tables turned, and, if he helped that along by refilling Jim’s drink frequently, well it served the kid right.

He mostly found himself sitting in the den watching Chris play, Leonard’s eyes feasting on the sight. He didn’t know where this was going, just knew that there was crackling tension between them that had Leonard’s pulse continually racing the entire evening. When their eyes met over Chris’s guitar, Leonard was suddenly breathless and uneasy, his body restless and wanting. He knew what his heart wanted to happen tonight, knew what his body needed, but his head was never easy to convince to come along for the ride and it was continually shouting at him that this was _’a very bad idea.’_

“You’re thinking too much, Len,” Chris murmured as his legs brushed Leonard’s knees when he stood and left the room to get another drink.

Harry just looked at him. “Chris is good enough to make a living at music,” he interjected into the silence.

Leonard blinked and looked at Harry, shaking his head. “Starfleet’s in his blood. He’s not doing anything else.”

Harry nodded toward the dining room. “I know the type.”

“Will you excuse me? I think Jim’s drink’s running dry.” Leonard said as he stood.

Harry laughed. “I feel sorry for the guy!”

“Don’t. He was hitting on your date.”

Harry’s laughter followed him from the room.

Chuckling at the last hand where Jim’s bluff failed spectacularly, Leonard turned around to return to the den and ran into a wall of muscle. “Oof!” he blurted out as warm hands gripped his biceps, steadying him, his face mere centimeters from Chris’.

“You enjoying yourself?”

Chris didn’t move back, didn’t let go, didn’t give Leonard a chance to reconsider when suddenly their lips met. Leonard couldn’t say who moved forward or if both of them did, but the result was literal explosions going off, Leonard moaning and wrapping himself around Chris, pressing their bodies together while Chris plundered his mouth. Leonard opened up to the onslaught, Chris was kissing him like he did everything, full bore, no holds barred, and Leonard was flattened, hanging on for the ride, the world obliterated by the sheer force of Chris; Chris’s tongue, Chris’s hands, Chris’s body pushing against him.

Some eternity later, Chris retreated, and Leonard swayed, thankful for the wall to hold up his suddenly rubbery legs. “Fuck,” he murmured. He knew his eyes were glazed over, his skin flushed, and his cock more than half hard. One kiss and Chris Pike had laid him bare.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time. Happy New Year, Len.”

Leonard blinked and took in Chris’s state. His hair was mussed, probably from Leonard’s hands, his lips swollen and red, another button undone on his shirt. He looked so gloriously fuckable that Leonard had to bite back a soft whimper as Chris’s voice swept over him.

“Took you long enough,” he finally managed, his voice low and raspy.

“You’re pretty expert at avoiding me,” Chris replied, one hand sweeping through Leonard’s hair, the other shooting warmth through Leonard’s insides from his hip bone. “We made it to midnight. We can leave now without being rude.”

Chris leaned forward, his lips brushing against Leonard’s ear, hot breath sending spikes down Leonard’s spine. “You’ve figured prominently in my fantasies for a long time, Len. I’d really like to make them a reality,” he breathed.

Leonard’s back arched forward and he could only nod eagerly. He breathed in through his nose, finally dragging himself away. He couldn’t think when Chris was touching him. “Yes, please. Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, Chris. Now would be good.”

Chris chuckled wickedly and nodded his chin toward the dining room. “Just let Nat and Phil know I’m giving you a ride. I’ll grab my bag and guitar.”

And that was the exact moment that Leonard lost control of his evening and, if he was honest, his life. He should have known, should have expected that Chris would be a demanding, arrogant, pushy bastard, but he had had no idea.

~~*~~

Chris watched as Leonard made sure that Philip had Jim’s keys. He knew that even off duty Leonard felt responsible for watching out for Jim. Chris smirked inwardly when Philip winked at him over Leonard’s head as he looked altogether too smug when Leonard said that Chris was giving him a ride home. Then he quickly promised that he’d make sure Jim didn’t drive the ‘death bike’ until he was stone cold sober. After that he rushed Leonard out the door and into Chris’s waiting hovercar, mouthing over the roof to Chris, “Behave!” before stepping back and watching them drive off.

Chris glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw Nat join Phil on the porch. They moved into each other’s embrace and Chris looked back to the road, a wistful feeling stealing over him. He turned his head and regarded Leonard, who was fidgeting. Chris knew what he wanted, recognized the unfamiliar ache in his chest as he gripped the steering wheel to keep from pushing away the one lock of hair that kept falling onto Leonard’s forehead.

Wondering if Leonard was regretting this already, he licked dry lips and offered an out. “If you’re having second thoughts, Len, I can just drop you at your quarters.”

Leonard turned quickly, his eyes dark pools in the dim light. He shook his head, answering, “I’m not. Just… it’s… I’m not good at these things. This is something Jim would do.”

Chris cocked his head toward Leonard, but kept one eye on the road. “What do you mean by that?”

Leonard waved a hand in the air, pointing to both of them. “This. Going back to your place.” He paused, but then blurted out, “I don’t really know how to do the whole casual sex thing.”

Chris went silent and still, his eyes fixed firmly on the road, his vague plans evaporating. He swallowed and nodded to himself. Of course. He had been stupid to think that Leonard was at the same place as him. Leonard was so much younger, just rebuilding his life. He might find Chris attractive, but he didn’t want or need anything more than a release, a hook-up.

Even so, Chris would be stupid not to enjoy himself even if he’d have to keep his heart out of the proceedings. He turned and pinned Leonard with the full measure of his gaze, his smile the one Nat always accused of being able to melt lava. “Well then, I guess it’s about time you learned.”

Leonard swallowed and nodded. He looked down and Chris wanted desperately to kiss him, he was so vulnerable. But Chris didn’t. He had gotten the message and he pulled back, kept the conversation running at a smooth clip so that the rest of the ride passed swiftly. And no matter what the morning would bring, he would always treasure Leonard’s dry wit and sarcasm almost as much as his teasing lips and beguiling eyes.

Chris parked the car and they walked into the building, intentionally brushing against each other as they took the lift up to his floor. The ride was far longer than usual thanks to the boisterous revelers who insisted on regaling them with a toneless version of _Auld Lang Syne_.

The doors whooshed closed behind them and cut off another chorus. His eyes met Leonard’s and they both laughed softly, shaking their heads as they moved to Chris’s apartment door.

Chris stopped to enter his code and turned to see Leonard staring at his ass. He gave a dry chuckle, causing Leonard to look up. Chris’s heart lurched at his guilty expression. The man beside him had no idea how absolutely gorgeous he was. Chris bit back a sigh and opened the doors, allowing Leonard to precede him in. He had to get hold of his raging emotions or he might say something unwelcome.

He took a moment to compose himself, locking the door behind him as he followed Leonard into his apartment. He got his own glimpse of rather fine behind and grinned. Even if this wasn’t all he wanted, there was no doubt that he wanted Leonard, had almost from the first moment he’d recruited the younger man, his hazel eyes near overflowing with emotion.

Shoving aside his feelings and concentrating on the way his body reacted to Leonard, Chris moved easily about the room, stepped behind the antique mahogany bar and lifted the bottle of bourbon. “Drink? It’s even Woodford Reserve, just like at Phil’s.”

Leonard turned from staring out the large picture window and strode toward the bar. Just the unconscious way he walked had Chris’s mouth going dry – he was all powerful, lanky confidence, near prowling toward Chris, drawn by the promise of booze and more. Chris wondered for a moment who exactly was the prey here.

“That’d be nice.” Leonard licked his lips and slid his hands along the smooth wood of the bar. “This is beautiful.”

Chris was transfixed as Leonard’s long fingers slid along the gleaming dark wood. He had to admit there was just something about Leonard’s hands; the long fingers, the strength, the complete and utter control. His hands held the promise of healing, firm and tender, yet there was so much more there. Chris wanted those hands on him.

He blinked, as Leonard snapped his fingers in front of Chris’s face. He realized that he’d zoned out. Shrugging self-consciously, he poured Leonard’s drink and handed it to him. “Okay, I admit it. I spent a lot of time fantasizing about your hands.”

Leonard took a sip of bourbon. “Yeah? What kind of things d’ya imagine?”

Chris stepped around the bar, neared Leonard, focused as he dipped one index finger into the bourbon and pulled it out, quickly catching the single drip on his tongue before sucking it in. Chris’s breath hitched and his nostrils flared with arousal. He couldn’t take his eyes from Leonard’s finger which he slowly pulled from his mouth and dipped in the bourbon again.

This time the finger moved to Chris’s lips, painted the warm wetness over them. He gasped and sucked on the intruding digit. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t wait any longer. While still sucking on Leonard’s finger, he surged forward, shoved Leonard back against the bar, pressed their groins together, their eyes locking.

Leonard sucked in a harsh breath and slowly withdrew his finger. “Fuck,” he hissed. He took a quick swallow of bourbon, then leaned forward, met their lips, fed Chris the bourbon and Chris had never gotten so hard so quickly in his life. The combination of Leonard and bourbon on his tongue had him instantly addicted and he wanted more, wanted all of it, wanted it now.

He reached up, ran one hand through Leonard’s hair, holding him in place while his tongue chased Leonard’s. This was better than he’d imagined, more than he’d expected, and he had to bite back the words that threatened. Instead he gripped Leonard’s ass with his other hand, kept him pinned against the bar, never wanted to move. It felt so fuckin’ good to have him like this. And the noises that Leonard made. He moaned and whimpered and his hips were moving against Chris’s and it was all too much while not being nearly enough.

Gasping, Chris wrenched his mouth away. “Fuck! Bedroom. Now.” He didn’t give Leonard a chance to object or to reconsider. And from the dazed expression on Leonard’s face, Chris didn’t think that was in the cards. So he linked their fingers and dragged a completely unresisting Leonard into Chris’s bedroom.

When they reached the bed, Chris turned, wrapped Leonard up in his arms, sighing as strong arms encircled his waist. He met Leonard’s eyes and leaned in to kiss those luscious bow-shaped lips once again. He had never kissed anyone that felt so _right,_ so perfect for him. It was like he and Leonard had been kissing for years, knew just what the other wanted and needed, none of the awkwardness inherent with new lovers.

His hands roamed as the kiss lingered, busily tugging Leonard’s shirt tail free so they could skate over an expanse of smooth skin. When he tried to unbutton Leonard’s shirt and pants simultaneously, Leonard leered and stepped back.

“A little eager there, darlin’?”

His voice was as dark and sinful as the bourbon, turning Chris’s legs to rubber as he watched those long fingers swiftly open both their shirts and tug them off. He tugged his arms out of the sleeves and tossed it aside.

“Fuck, yeah,” he answered as he kicked off his shoes, his fingers in Leonard’s waistband tugging him forward. “Get naked. Wanna see you.”

Leonard huffed out a quick breath but nodded and stripped off his shoes and jeans while Chris undressed. When he stood and met Chris’s eyes, he seemed almost embarrassed.

“You really don’t know how gorgeous you are, do you?” Chris moved forward, pressed their bare chests together, his hands reaching to cup Leonard’s ass. “Dammit, Len. You should see yourself through my eyes…”

Leonard flushed and ducked his head.

Chris stopped himself from pushing any more. He’d already said more than he should. He walked backwards to the bed, dragging Leonard with him, until he dropped down, melting into the mattress as Leonard settled on top of him. They both moaned softly and their lips met again, tongues tangling as warm flesh slid together. He knew he shouldn’t rush this, should savor and enjoy, but Chris was hungry, desperate. One taste of Leonard and he was blown away, his head spinning, lungs gasping for breath, his whole body craving one thing – Leonard.

He rolled them over, one hand wrapping around Leonard’s wrists and pinning them over his head. Leonard’s eyes widened, darkened, and he arched up into Chris, belying the protest even as he hissed out “Shit!”

“You like that don’t you, Len?” Chris mouthed at Leonard’s neck, sucking, but pulled back, careful not to leave a mark. Casual didn’t allow marks and he fought the overwhelming desire to proclaim Leonard _his._

“I bet a mouthy bastard like you really wants to be commanded, put in his place.”

Leonard had closed his eyes, was trying to hide his reaction, but Chris could see the flush, feel the pulse thrumming under his fingers. He smiled against Leonard’s neck, lifted his lips to his ear. “Well, here’s how it’s going down, Commander,” he ordered, his voice barely above a husky whisper. “You’re not going to move your hands and you’re going to open those beautiful, expressive eyes of yours. You’re going to watch everything I do to you.”

Leonard didn’t answer, but his pulse was hammering against Chris’s fingers and Chris smiled against the warm skin. He released Leonard’s wrists and they didn’t waver, didn’t move, even when Chris slid his palms over the stretched tendons, felt the coiled power in those arms. Leonard was surprisingly muscular under his science blues and Chris hummed appreciatively as he straddled Leonard’s hips.

“You’ve been hiding under uniforms and lab coats for too long, Len.” Chris watched his breath hitch as a careless finger trailed across one nipple. He grinned down at Leonard whose lips were parted around a soft gasp. Chris settled his hands over Leonard’s biceps, enjoying the warm flexing under his palms. He tilted his hips forward and ground their cocks together, his eyes locked with Leonard’s.

Leonard swallowed but didn’t look away and Chris ducked his head, took the sensitive nub between his teeth and pulled on it. Leonard jerked and his hands lifted, but they were quickly set back down as a long whimper issued from his mouth. Chris moved to the other nipple and teased it, rolling it between his teeth gently as he sucked. He continued to move, his tongue tasting and teeth teasing, leaving small red marks as he worked his way down. He counted the freckles, mapped each one, memorizing the hills and valleys as he trailed down. He nipped at Leonard’s navel, worrying the soft skin as his hips stuttered in response.

“Goddammit, Chris!”

Chris looked up, his smile wicked. “You want something, Len?”

“You gonna fuck me tonight?”

Chris bit back laughter and cupped Leonard’s cheeks. He gave them a squeeze and nudged Leonard’s thighs apart with his chin. “Maybe. But you don’t really get a say in whether I do or don’t. You forget that? Do you need a reminder? A gag, perhaps?”

Leonard’s chest shuddered and his eyes were blown wide. He dropped his head back with a soft groan. “Fuckin’ arrogant admiral.”

Chris laughed aloud then. “At your service, Commander.” The last syllable was barely audible as he swallowed Leonard’s cock down, quickly sucking in a breath before he bottomed out and sealed his lips.

Leonard arched up with a loud, “Shit!”

Chris hummed in pleasure around the hard length. He slid off, sucked in just the head, then pushed back down, taking more in with each pass. He watched Leonard’s eyes slam shut then blink open as he realized what he’d done. His legs were moving and he wanted to lift up, but he held still, hips barely shifting. Chris kept up the pace, sliding up and down as he sucked and teased. He listened carefully, felt Leonard tense and quickly pulled off with a wet slurp.

Leonard groaned, lifting his head to skewer Chris with a dark gaze. “What the? Chris, goddammit, but you’re a cock tease.”

“You already forget the rules? You don’t come until I say you do.” He used his stern ‘command’ voice, taking great delight in the needy whimper that Leonard couldn’t hide.

He moved to all fours over Leonard and took a moment to enjoy the picture; the flushed skin, the sheen of sweat under his arms and on his upper lip, eyes blown wide and dark, hair tousled. Leonard, with his legs spread wide, his cock leaking, and his arms over his head was Chris’s dream come true. He leaned close, whispered against Leonard’s lips, “Can’t believe you’re finally in my bed, baby.”

The endearment slipped out and Chris stiffened, covered his flub with a searing kiss as he hastily reached for lube and a barrier film. He ignored the part that wanted to do this without barriers, buried that thought as he slid back down Leonard’s body.

“Want me to apply the barrier, Admiral?”

Chris sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes slamming shut to keep from coming at the completely wicked combination of Leonard’s medical and bourbon-laced voice. He shook his head. “Keep your hands where they are,” he ordered, more from the knowledge that Leonard’s hands on him right now would be too much rather than from any desire to keep up the ‘game’.

Leonard’s smirk meant he knew exactly the effect he had on Chris.

This was going to be over far too soon if he couldn’t get a grip on himself. He wrapped the barrier around his cock and moaned before grabbing the lube. With two fingers slicked up, he began to toy with Leonard’s hole, sucking on his prick and lapping at his balls as he rushed through the prep. Leonard was tight, but opened up easily, his body undulating around Chris’s fingers as he pumped them in and out, his aim true if the sounds Leonard made and the way he rocked on Chris’s fingers were any indication. Chris was already close and he stilled his hips, stopped grinding into the mattress. He pressed against Leonard’s prostrate once more as he lightly dragged his teeth up the stiff shaft and pulled out and off simultaneously.

“Oh, fuck!” Leonard cried out, his body bowing upward to chase Chris’s mouth, but Chris held him down.

“I’ve got you, Len. Give me a sec…” he murmured. After a quick squirt of lube, he moved forward, lifted Leonard’s hips, lined up and pressed home. White hot heat gripped his cock, squeezing almost too tightly and the world nearly whited out. Loud moans echoed through the quiet room and Chris shuddered. He jerked forward, was buried balls deep, and stilled. The sight of his length inside Leonard was too much, but Leonard’s wide eyes and parted lips were no easier to bear.

“Fuck!” he ground out past gritted teeth, then had to look away and close his eyes. Leonard in his bed, Leonard writhing on his cock, Leonard whimpering. Chris ran through treaties, schematics, cadet evaluations, anything to keep from coming right that instant. Before he could ask if Leonard was okay, he heard Leonard clear his throat.

Opening his eyes and turning back to Leonard, he met his strained glare. “Dammit, Chris! I didn’t agree to being tortured! Move already!” Leonard was quivering under him, the tendons in his wrists and neck standing out from the coiled tension and Chris realized Leonard was as affected as he was. Maybe there was a possibility for more than casual here after all.

Something eased in Chris’s chest and he grinned impishly. A look he learned from Jim. As he swiveled his hips, Leonard moaned. “I think you like being tortured.”

He shifted, pulled out slightly, pushed forward, hips seeking. He knew he’d hit his mark when Leonard arched up, a guttural moan ripped from his lips. Chris lifted Leonard’s hips, targeted that spot, and began thrusting, long, slow, sure strokes until Leonard was cursing at him, swearing a blue streak. Then Chris slowed, shifted to short, sharp, targeted thrusts until Leonard was incoherent and crying out nonsense. He was close, so close, but he was not coming until Leonard had shattered around him.

“Can you come like this, Len? Just from my cock? I think you can. You’re such a slut for my cock, aren’t you? You take it so prettily, just gagging for it.”

Leonard arched up, his whole body coiled tight, a sharp, ‘Fuck!’ bursting from his lips.

Chris moved one hand from Leonard’s thigh to his cock and fisted it. “Come now, Len. C’mon, baby.”

Leonard stilled and tossed his head back, eyes slamming shut as he spurted into Chris’s hand, his whole body bowing and bearing down, literally squeezing Chris’s release out of him. Chris cried out as the world fragmented around him.

Gasping, he dropped to the bed. It was ungainly, sticky, squelchy as he slid out, both of them groaning as they merged together. “Oh, fuck, Len,” Chris panted, boneless and limp, satiated and suddenly exhausted.

“Can I drop my arms?” Leonard whimpered.

“Shit! Yeah.” As much as he didn’t want to, Chris sat up. After grabbing a few tissues to clean them up, he took Leonard’s arms and massaged the blood back into them. Leonard simply melted beneath him, eyes closed, body languid. Chris smiled to himself. Leonard was the picture of debauched and so fucking beautiful that Chris ached with it. His body was sated, but his heart yearned.

Sighing softly, he flipped off the light and tugged the sheets over them before pulling Leonard into his arms. “Sleep, baby. I’ll take care of you,” he whispered into Leonard’s hair.

Leonard turned into his arms, humming softly as he nuzzled into Chris’s chest, already asleep.


	2. Just Casual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part I of Just Casual was written by my talented co-writer, the fabulous weepingnaiad. We conceived this fic together one night after realizing we were due to post in consecutive days at LJ comm pikemccoy's Holiday Fic-athon. She also wrote Jim Kirk's hilarious comms to Bones, and they were too good to not use. Thanks, darlin!
> 
> Just Casual 2 continues the story, or how Leonard McCoy got his man.

It was quite possible, Leonard McCoy thought upon emerging from a deep sleep, that death by hot sex was the best way to go.

He forced his eyes to open, and focused on a sliver of grey light coming through a slit in the curtains that were no more than a few meters from his face. _So, not dead. Well, that's a comfort_ , he thought, and then grinned into his pillow.

He rolled over and right into the furnace that was Christopher Pike, who was still blissfully and beautifully asleep. For a moment, he contemplated the man in the low light. God, how could one man be so fucking gorgeous? In slumber, Chris looked so much younger, a lot less intimidating. The steely resolve softened. There was no illusion in Leonard's mind: this was a very powerful man, one who commanded at the top ranks of Starfleet, including medical. And he was a man of enormous personal discipline, as evidenced by his near-complete recovery from the _Narada_ incident in half the time anyone thought possible. Pike impressed every physician in Starfleet and every neurologist in the galaxy who followed his case. Yes, he was something of a miracle, but more than that, he was a man who simply did not take 'No' for an answer in any aspect of his life.

And then the import of what had happened hit him like a phaser cannon: Chris Pike, this powerful, amazing man, wanted _him_.

Leonard rolled onto his back again and rubbed his eyes. The symptoms of a low-level hangover began to manifest: dry mouth, annoying headache, queasy stomach. And a full bladder. Sighing, he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The bathroom was nearby; Leonard quietly closed the door behind him and steeled himself as he flipped on the light. He nearly groaned out loud, but slowly, he opened one eye and then the other. Looking into the mirror, he was greeted by cowlicks on cowlicks and tired eyes. But surprisingly, the perpetual scowl lines between his eyebrows were gone, or at least lessened. He gently rolled his shoulders and head and felt very little tension in them. He filled the small plastic glass with water and drank it down slowly. The water roiled a bit in his empty stomach, and reminded him of the full bladder. After taking care of it, he washed his hands in warm water, then as he dried them, he hazarded a look in the cabinet over the sink.

The medicine cabinet, a misnomer if ever there was one, was filled with the usual bits of a human male: razor, an old fashioned digital thermometer, some innocuous cold medications (Leonard was pleased to see the drugs Chris was taking to aid in his recovery were _not_ there: _Good man. He knows to keep the serious stuff in a drier, cooler place._ ), some dental floss, deodorant, and one small bottle of acetylsalicylic acid—good old aspirin. Gratefully, he opened the bottle, shook out three white discs, and then washed them down with another glass of lukewarm water. He even swished his mouth with a bit of mouthwash.

Thus refreshed, Leonard returned to the dark bedroom, and contemplated looking for his boxers; it was damn near impossible to see anything. Chris was by no means a slob, but the floor was covered with various items of clothing, and he thought the better part of valor was to simply remain naked.

As he shuffled to the bed, his toe kicked a small metal object. He bent over and recovered his comm unit; the message indicator was blinking. He quietly opened it in the muted light streaming in through the blinds and saw there were four messages from Jim.  
   
 _“Bones!”_   Jim was whispering.  _“Where the hell are you, man?  I can’t believe you bailed on me!  Where the fuck am I?  Shit!”_

The message ended abruptly, and Leonard chuckled softly so he didn’t wake Chris.  
   
 _“Dammit, Bones.  Where are my clothes?  You didn’t really let me bet my clothes did you?  Why the fuck am I wearing a collar_?”  
   
The message clicked off and Leonard’s smile grew.  
   
 _“Bones!  Never.Ever.Upon pain of death leave me alone again!  I’m not sure but think I lost the Enterprise to Number One… and… oh, fuck!”_  
   
Leonard had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Jim’s breathy gasp.  He might be naked somewhere, but he was still Jim, and getting some, it seemed.  
   
The next message began to play and Leonard had to work hard not to laugh out loud.  _“Bones!  Man, get your ass back here!  Not only did you ply me with booze and then leave me to my own devices with three lovely and conniving women, but now you won’t pick up!  Do you have any idea what I’m wearing?  Not just a collar!  It has a leash attached!”_   There was the sound of a hand meeting flesh, a yelp into the comm unit, and then Jim’s voice returned, _“Bones, please?  I seem to have bartered my freedom and might possibly be Cait’s pleasure slave.”_

Shaking his head in mirth, Leonard walked back to the bed, placed the comm unit on the bedside table and slowly slid between the sheets.

“Everything all right?” he heard Chris say in a sleep-wrecked voice.

“Fine. Everything's fine,” Leonard breathed as he felt warm arms and legs gather around him. He laid very still until Chris was settled. He didn't think he could sleep again, his mind racing with the thoughts of being with _the admiral_ and Jim's _dire_ situation. But Chris's warmth and the easing of his hangover, coupled with the magnificently soft bed and thick blankets and Chris's gentle, steady breathing in his ear and on his neck, Leonard felt himself unable to resist the siren call of sleep. And for the first time in a very long time, he slid into slumber with a smile on his lips.

*~*

When he awoke again, Leonard found himself alone in a tangle of bedding. The fleeting thought that Chris had abandoned him was quickly chased away by the sound of soft guitar music and low humming and the smell of fresh coffee brewing.

He stretched carefully and rolled his shoulders, delighted to find no trace of a headache. Propelled by the thought of coffee and Chris, he arose, and the brighter light of morning revealed a worn plaid flannel robe at the foot of the bed. He slipped it on and entered the living area.

The music led him to the far end of the room, to a small lighted Christmas tree beside large glass doors that faced west onto the bay. Beside the tree, seated in a comfortable chair was Chris. He was turned away from Leonard, quietly strumming a familiar Christmas song with a bluesy riff and humming along; he was dressed in jeans and a white shirt, which from the looks of the hanging tails was unbuttoned, and of course, barefoot.

That brought a smile to Leonard's lips. He remembered Phil Boyce teasing Chris something fierce last night about “reverting to a caveman”. Given Chris's eschewing of shoes and buttons and his fiercely possessive nature, Boyce might have been onto something.

“Good morning,” Chris said. “I'm sorry if I awakened you.”

“I'm not,” Leonard answered automatically. “Is the coffee up for grabs?”

“Of course. Would you bring me a cup?”

Leonard filled two mugs of coffee, black—-no sugar or milk in evidence on the counter—-and walked to the living area. He handed a mug to Chris and then sat in a chair next to him. They silently sipped the hot, strong coffee for a while.

Leonard shifted uneasily as the moments passed. He was unsure of what to say or do or think in this situation, and all the doubts of the past twelve hours resurfaced. Chris was an _admiral_ for fuck's sake. And a _former patient_! What the hell was he doing here? Who was he kidding and--

“You're thinking way too much,” Chris said. He was fingering the guitar again, another familiar tune.

“How did I not know you played?” Leonard asked, buying some time for the coffee to wake his brain up.

“Not many people do. My friends, of course. And had things worked out as they should have, the crew of the _Enterprise_ , which you would have been a member of.” Chris hummed as he played another chorus.

Leonard nodded, sipping more of the coffee. There it was again: that divide between them, the doctor and the admiral; the commanding officer and the subordinate; the--

“And no, that does not mean that this is inherently wrong, Len,” Chris said. “You are of a sufficient age and rank and situation that even had we served on the _Enterprise_ together, this would not have been inappropriate.” He played another line, then stopped. “Did you feel compelled to be here with me?”

“No, of course not,” Leonard retorted.

Chris hummed. “But you were hesitant.”

“Chris, can you blame me? Look, all of this . . . Starfleet rank bullshit is still foreign to me. I don't know what in hell it means to be here, with you. But I'm trying my damndest to just think of you as _Chris_ , some really hot guy I once had as a patient.”

“Ah. So it's the 'former patient' part that has you hung up.”

“Yes. No,” Leonard replied without thinking. “I don't know. Jim told me that 'former' is the operative word.”

Chris put down his guitar, and stood. “He's right. I am no longer your patient, not by any means.” He strode over to the kitchen and gathered up a few items from cupboards and drawers and returned to a very curious Leonard. And a very aroused Leonard, for when Chris stood, Leonard saw that not only was the admiral's shirt was unbuttoned, but his jeans were as well.

“Now,” Chris said, sitting across from him once again, “I figured you'd have a bit of a hangover and I have the perfect cure.” He opened a bag of plain saltine crackers and then a jar of creamed honey. He offered the cracker and honey to Leonard, who took it and nibbled on it. It tasted good, the sweet and salty together at once, and he finished it off. Chris handed him another one, and he ate it in two bites. The queasiness in his stomach from the coffee and aspirin started to abate.

“See? You are now my patient,” Chris said, as he handed Leonard another honeyed cracker, and ate one himself.

Leonard smiled. “It's not the same.”

“Why not? You took care of me when I needed your skills the most. I'm taking care of you when you need, well, not my skills, but whatever I have in my kitchen to cure your hangover.”

Leonard smiled at Chris's logic around another cracker. “Fine. We'll agree to disagree over the what constitutes an appropriate level of skilled medical care, but I'm. . .getting there.”

“Good.” Chris crawled out of his chair and came to rest on his knees between Leonard's. “I'll accept that reluctant acquiescence of my analysis of the situation.” He dipped the tip of his finger into the small jar of creamy honey, and with a smirk, he reached up and swiped Leonard's bottom lip.

Leonard's heart rate leapt. He locked eyes with Chris, who slowly, inexorably leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his honeyed lips, lingering there, pressing with just enough force to send Leonard's head spiralling. But all too soon, he pulled back. Leonard licked his lips involuntarily, loving the taste of coffee, honey, and _Chris_ on them.

“So, Doctor McCoy,” Chris said, pushing Leonard back into the chair all the way with a hand to his chest, “what would you like for breakfast?” He pulled on the robe's ties, pushing back each side slowly; Leonard blushed realizing he was completely naked under it. “Hmmm...let's see.”

Chris scooped another small bit of honey on his finger, then smeared it on Leonard's right nipple. Leonard shuddered and tensed, just as Chris moved closer and breathed hotly over it and then closed his mouth over it.

Leonard nearly jumped at the contact; his muscles contracted as sparks shot through his veins. Chris laved at the sensitive nub, suckling it until it was pebbled and throbbing and wet. It had been so damn long that someone had done that to him, and it left Leonard wanting, wanting more of it.

Without warning, Chris wiped honey on his other nipple and worried it over and over with his wicked tongue. “Jesus, Chris,” Leonard whispered, his hand coming to rest on Chris's neck.

He pulled off with a slight pop; Leonard could see his pupils were blown wide just before he reached up and kissed Leonard again, this time with much more tongue. Leonard sucked on that sweetly coated tongue and moaned.

When the kiss finally ended, both men were panting. Chris ran his hands up Leonard's legs, and gripped his bent waist. Leonard's hard and leaking cock jutted up between them. “Oh, what's this?” Chris asked. “I think I've found my breakfast.” He leaned over and licked a hot, wet stripe, then took the head in his mouth.

Leonard had to restrain himself forcefully to not surge up into the hot, deliciously wet mouth that surrounded him. Watching Chris's iron-and-silver head bobbing up and down, hearing the slurping-sucking, and feeling the appreciative little moans and hums, Leonard had to think about a number of numbing things to keep from blowing right then and there: supply lists of pharmaceuticals, the bones in the Tellarite cranial structure....

. . . And was failing spectacularly. Leonard's body was on _fire _. His eyes followed the long length of Chris's back; the tails of his white shirt ended at the swell of his beautiful and now bare ass. His hands had been on that ass not long ago, and he wanted them on it again. That _desire_ prompted him take action.__

As Chris came on the up-bob, Leonard put his hands under Chris's arms. “Up,” he said.

“What?” Chris asked. His eyes were unfocused as he licked luscious lips.

“I said 'up',” Leonard commanded.

“But--”

“But nothing. I want you _up_!”

Together, they got Chris off his knees and onto his feet. “Wait,” Chris said as he stood and put his arms around Leonard's neck. “Sometimes it takes a second.”

“Still have some stiffness?” Leonard asked, the doctor in him taking over. He held Chris securely. “Think you can walk?”

“Without a doubt, doctor,” Chris replied. He bent one knee, then the other. “I'm fine.”

“Good,” Leonard said, “now lose those fool jeans before you trip and land on that beautiful face of yours.”

Chris's half-unbuttoned jeans had pooled around his knees. Leonard stepped on them and Chris was able to pull his feet from them. “Now the shirt,” Leonard continued, and he tugged the shirt off of Chris's arms.

“You always this bossy?” Chris asked, with a smile.

“I'm about to get even bossier,” Leonard said. “And you're gonna love it.”

Leonard tugged on Chris's hands and led then both to the bedroom. “This is no substitute for a proper breakfast, but this'll be a lot more fun.”

Chris laughed. Leonard loved the sound of it, loved the feel of Chris's hands on him, the press of his hairy chest to his, the hard, muscular globes of Chris's ass in his hands. He swallowed Chris's smile in a searing kiss that had them both moaning in an instant.

They fell slowly onto the bed together. Leonard scooted them up further so that they lay in the middle, Chris under his thighs. And Chris, that bastard, took Leonard's scrotum in hand and squeezed lightly. Leonard moaned again, and thrust his renewed erection on Chris's chest. “Fuck,” he wheezed.

“That's what you had in mind?” Chris asked.

Instead of answering, he allowed Chris to continue playing with his balls, stroking his cock with strong, sinewy fingers. He doubled over and they kissed, hot and hard. Jesus God, but he loved this! It was getting to be too much, and he wanted all of Chris, not just his hand. Abruptly, Leonard levered himself off of Chris, and away from that evil hand to lay beside him. “Don't want this to end just yet.” And he took Chris's lips again with his.

Leonard didn't think he'd ever get enough of this man's lips; they conformed to his perfectly, moved perfectly, opened perfectly to his mouth. Chris tasted of power and passion, coffee and care. No, there was nothing _casual_ about this man, about anything this man did or had in his life. There was nothing casual in his touch or his words, nothing casual about how he kissed Leonard back, how he held Leonard's body closely to his own. _This_ was not casual at all.

With that thunderous revelation, Leonard pulled Chris even closer, kissed him that much harder. He wanted everything about this man, to know everything, to possess _everything_.

He could feel Chris responding to his desire, giving back with equal passion. “Lube,” Chris murmured as they parted to gasp for air. “There,” he indicated with his eyes.

Leonard reached for the tube and a condom from the bedside table. He quickly slicked up and then, thinking, asked, “How long's it been since you bottomed?”

Chris stared at him. “I-I can't remember. Honestly.”

“Figures,” Leonard said with feigned gruffness, “you power head-cases never seem to want to give up control.”

“Well, it's--”

“I'm gonna make this so good for you, darlin',” Leonard whispered, “you'll wonder why you don't do it more often.”

Chris cupped the back of Leonard's neck and kissed him deeply. “It'll be good because it's you.”

That confirmed everything Leonard had been thinking about, _feeling for_ , this man. He leaned in and gently kissed him back as his finger slid down Chris's perineum to find and circle his entrance. Leonard watched as Chris's eye fell closed and his back arched at the touch. “That's—fuck, Leonard,” he breathed.

“You need to do this more often,” Leonard whispered. “Oh, darlin', if you could see yourself. So fine, so ready for this.”

When he felt the muscles flutter in relaxation, he slipped his finger in partway, watching as Chris's face turned to surprise and passion. “God, that's good.”

“It is, and it's gonna get better,” Leonard said, encouraging, as his own confidence built.

Slowly, expertly, Leonard opened Chris up under his gentle persuasion. By the time he'd worked three fingers into him, both were panting with need. “Jesus, Len, enough,” Chris said, breaking their minutes-long kiss. “Now, do it now, before I come.”

Leonard broke away from him long enough to roll the condom onto his own hard length and add more lube. “This—this won't last long for either of us,” he said ruefully, “but I've loved every second.” He pushed Chris's knees up and prepared to enter him.

Watching Chris's face carefully, he pushed in slowly, testing him with soft thrusts. “I'm not going to break, you know,” Chris said, strangled.

“I know, just don't want it to hurt,” Leonard said, “but maybe you can take this.” And he pushed in more strongly. Christ, but the man was tight.

“God—yeah,” Chris replied. “Yeah, that's...god, yessss.”

Leonard smiled as Chris's face melted into sheer bliss. That's what he wanted to see. Leonard pulled in and out, in and out, thrusting with more power with each turn, and loving it as Chris's handsome face become more and more impassioned.

Leonard knew _he_ wasn't going to last much longer, not with this gorgeous man beneath him, not with the sounds emanating from this gorgeous man's sensuous mouth. Moaning and cursing, Christopher Pike was a _wonder_.

Leonard leaned in closer to trap Chris's cock between their bodies, pressing it to Chris's hard abs. “Come on, Christopher,” he whispered harshly. “Come on.”

That caused Chris to moan again. “Fuck, you're gonna kill me,” he huffed.

“Not likely,” Leonard said. “Come on, come for me.”

He punctuated his command with punishing thrusts, and then leaned in to bite the juncture of Chris's neck and shoulder and held on. With one high-pitched exclamation, Leonard felt warmth erupt between them just as he felt himself shattering.

The next several seconds—minutes?hours?--were a haze, but Leonard was sure they'd both had come, given the squelchiness on his chest and the lightness in his own body. He fell gracefully to Chris's heaving side, leaving their legs tangled.

“Jesus....”

“Ye-esss,” Chris replied in a deep, drawn out voice, then laughed. “Sorry, long-time, old joke . . . .”

Leonard snorted. “Same here. I'm a lapsed, irreverent Presbyterian.”

Chris rolled over to wrap himself around Leonard, and hummed, allowing them to catch their breath and to revel in the warmth of the moment. “That's something I did not know about you.” Then, he said, “I want to know everything about you.”

Leonard quirked an eyebrow. “Everything, huh? Give me about five minutes.”

“Now _that_ is the biggest lie I've ever heard,” Chris said, kissing his neck. “You have layers, Len. Lots and lots of layers.”

 _If only you knew. . ._ “I'm sure you do too,” Leonard replied.

“Of course. I'm a complex and interesting man.”

Leonard laughed, despite himself. “That's the most honest thing _I_ have ever heard.”

“Complete honesty,” Chris said. “That's how I live my life, especially with someone like you.”

Leonard fell silent. After a minute, he said, “I guess I'm going to have to rearrange my shore leave plans.” He turned and kissed Chris for a long, languid moment. “I want to know everything, too.”

*~*

Sometime in the late afternoon, Jim Kirk arrived at Chris Pike's house on his motorbike, looking a little worse for wear. He dismounted, and shifted his tight jeans to give his aching parts a little relief. Damn, but he wished he could've found his underwear; he was lucky he'd gotten his jeans and t-shirt back from that wench Cait. _Cait_. Jim smiled.

He knocked on the door, and waited. And waited. And waited. He knocked again. “Hey!” he called. “Bones? Admiral?”

Finally, the door opened. Jim stood back at the sight of a be-robed, adorably disheveled and thoroughly fucked-out Admiral Pike. “What?” Pike barked.

“Um...hi. Is Bones here?” Jim asked, trying to look around Pike and the door and into his house.

“He is.”

Jim blinked. “Uhh...is he ready to go? I comm'ed a few hours ago, but he didn't respond.”

“Well, son,” Pike said, “he was a little too pre-occupied to answer a comm.”

“Ok. Well, is he ready to go because I'm sober and can drive the bike, and--”

“He's sleeping, Jim, and no, he's not ready to go because I'm keeping him.”

The words slipped into Jim's brain. “Oh-- _oh_.” His face split into a wide smile. “So, you and Bones, eh?”

“Yes, Jim. Leonard and me.” He pulled the robe closer. “So if you don't mind--”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. No problem.” Jim backed off of the porch. “Ok. Can you give him a ride home?”

“Of course, Jim. But when I do, it's just for him to pick up some things. Like I said, I'm keeping him.”

“What? Like a love slave or something?” Jim teased.

“No, you nosy bastard. More like I'm his.”

Jim tried not to boggle at that comment, but he was quite sure something of his surprise, his _delight_ , showed on his face. “Ok, well, then. I will leave you to it.” Jim turned and went to his bike. “Tell Bones I said 'hi'.”

Pike waved and shut the door. Firmly.

Too bad he missed Jim Kirk's dance of victory.


	3. Just Casual: Of Gossiping Daughters and Starship Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Leonard McCoy's shore leave continues, his daughter is curious about the man who has captured her daddy's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the LJ comm pikemccoy's Valentine's Day fest. Or, something like that. This story continues the verse and I started for the holiday fest in December. And due to the lapse in time, the verb tense shifted in this story to present.--abigail89

“Come with me.”

He says it softly, somewhat uncertainly, not knowing how Chris will take it. They've only been... _this_... lovers...boyfriends...for a little over a month. But considering that they see each other rarely due their many important duties for him, Leonard can't say he's really _been_ with the Admiral even that long. Supervising the complete overhaul of the _Enterprise_ medical bay, training new staff, taking care of _Enterprise_ crew even on extended shore leave, and teaching seminars on the various new diseases and treatment therapies of same has kept him away from Chris for days on end.

Mostly they meet, fall into bed, have smoking hot sex, and sleep. Sometimes they have dinner together. Occasionally, they talk.

So Leonard feels a little uneasy about bringing up at trip to Atlanta to meet Joanna with Chris. Because he doesn't really _know_ him, even though he desperately wants to.

Chris rolls slowly over to face him, his blue eyes heavy with satiation and contentment. “Hmm...,” he finally hums. “You sure about that?” He places his hand on Leonard's chest; Leonard grasps it and gives the palm a kiss.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I am. I only get to see her a couple of times when I'm on leave, but Jocelyn has been more agreeable this time around. Seen her just about every month since we've been here.” He lifts his eyes to Chris's, which betray no emotion; only the fact that he has curled his hand into Leonard's gives him any indication of Chris's affection and support. He continues, “Joanna has been comm'ing me almost every day. She has a long weekend around Valentine's Day, winter weekend or something. Wants me to come see her.”

“Of course she does,” Chris says, pulling Leonard to him in a hug. Leonard sighs as his body comes into full contact with Chris's long, lean body; Chris pulls the sheet up around them. “You should go.”

“I'd like for you to come with me,” Leonard says into Chris's neck. “Jocelyn won't let her come here, ever, so I've found a really nice resort-type place near Atlanta that Joanna likes, that I like.”

The tone in Leonard's voice changes as he mentions his ex-wife's name, and Chris picks up on it. “Len, you're only here for four more months,” he says, running his hand soothingly up and down Leonard's arm. “Go see your daughter, spend time with her. You don't need anything around that will distract her from your attentions.”

“She's really curious about you.” Leonard chuckles. “In fact, she demanded that I bring you.”

Leonard feels the laugh deep in Chris's chest. “Demanded, eh?”

“Yeah,” Leonard says, rolling back a little from Chris's embrace. “I suspect Jim told her about us.”

Chris laughs again. “And just why would Captain Kirk being telling your daughter about your love life?”

“You know Jim is, at base, a twelve year old and so they get along famously, always have. From the moment we became friends. Sometimes she comms him and I never know about it.” Leonard sighs. “He tells her things about me I'd never tell her, all my embarrassing moments. . .”

“This is embarrassing?” Chris interrupts.

“No!” Leonard says, flushing. “Of course not.” He waves his hand weakly as he raises his head. “I'm just sayin' that...”

“I know, I know. Calm down. I'm just winding you up.” Chris leans in and shushes him with a kiss.

Leonard relaxes a little. _Jesus, what a stupid thing to say._ “Anyway, she suspected something was up after the first week we were together. Said she could tell something was different because--”

He pauses. _She sees how happy I am. Because my daughter can see I'm in love._ “She says I don't look like I want to punch out the world.”

Chris laughs loudly at that. “She's got that right.” He rolls over on top and kisses Leonard, hard and hot. “You do look calmer; the scowls lines between your eyebrows are a little less scary.” He traces each brow with a finger several times.

Leonard snorts. “Can't lose my edge. How can I keep Jim's crew in line if I don't look like I wanna hypo their asses into next week?”

“I'd like to think, Dr. McCoy,” Chris drawls as he takes Leonard into his arms again, “that being happy and having someone who loves you in your life will make you a better doctor. Not that you aren't a competent and talented physician already.” He kisses him soundly at that.

Leonard parts from him and looks at Chris steadily, trying to figure out if he heard what he thinks he heard. Wait....”Did you just--”

“Yes, I did.” Chris smiles. “I just told you, in a roundabout way, that I love you,” he says softly. “I love you.” And he finishes with an equally soft, lingering kiss. “I know. It's too soon.” He drops his head to Leonard's shoulder.

“No. It's not. I-I love you. Too,” Leonard says, taking Chris's head in his hands. “I love you. I love you, but I thought it was too early to say anything, even if—even if my daughter had it figured out long before I did.”

Chris runs his long fingers through his hair, something that Leonard has discovered he likes very much. “Sometimes, Len, it takes someone else to point out the obvious, the thing that is right there in front of us.”

Leonard thinks about that. “So, who pointed it out to you?”

Chris smiles at him with such sweetness. “Jim. And then he threatened to eviscerate me with a dull _kut'lach_ if I ever hurt you or act like a jackass.”

Leonard snorts again. “Dammit, Jim,” he breathes. “He had no right to--”

“Yes, he did,” Chris says. “I assured him I have. . . no intentions but honorable. . . and loving ones.” He finishes this in a voice barely above a whisper.

“God, you--” Leonard captures Chris's lips, firmly pressing to them; Chris opens to him immediately, pulling Leonard's tongue in. And quickly, Leonard is lost in the taste and feel of Chris—-Chris's mouth, Chris's body so close to his, Chris's incredible heat, Chris's hard cock nudging his own. His head spins, overwhelmed by this man and his loving gift.

Leonard's hands roam all over Chris's body, taking in its warmth, exploring every place that elicits a moan or a sigh; his fingers dance gently into Chris's ass, the tip of the index rubbing small circles around the entrance to his body. The light touch makes Chris shiver in Leonard's arms.

“You've made me into a bottom,” Chris murmurs into Leonard's mouth. “And worse, you've made me love it.”

Leonard cannot help but grin at Chris's admission, and hums as he kisses the words away. As he does the tip of his finger slips in, the muscle still slippery and amenable from earlier. “Seems your body loves it too,” he whispers.

“My body is a damn traitor.”

“Mmm, not a traitor. It knows what you want, Chris,” Leonard says, licking the shell of his ear. He sucks the lobe in and worries it with his tongue, making Chris moan. “Your body wants me, wants my cock.”

Chris shudders. “Fuck, yes.”

“Wants to feel me breach you. Enter you. Take you.” Leonard shifts Chris's leg up further, exposing his entrance more, making it easier to to trace the rim of it. Chris moans again.

“If you don't fuck me soon--”

“Patience, Admiral. Patience.”

Chris squirms as Leonard slowly works his finger in and out, feeling the sphincter resist and pull. “Len, come _on_. You're killing me here,” Chris whines.

Leonard swallows Chris's whine with an open mouthed kiss, pulling everything from him and replacing it with passion. He fucks his mouth with his tongue as he finger-fucks Chris's ass. Chris stamps his foot on the bed, trying to urge Leonard on, but he will not be rushed. He wants to torture him with his tongue and his--

Leonard breaks the kiss suddenly. “I want to try something,” he whispers hoarsely.

Chris opens his eyes. “Anything, everything. As long as you do not leave me like this.”

Leonard laughs deeply. Evilly. “Roll over. On your knees, Admiral.” He pats Chris's ass lovingly.

Chris looks at him. “What are--”

“Do you trust me?” Leonard's eyebrow rises.

Without another word, Chris rolls over, presenting his ass-- _a firm, luscious ass_ \--to Leonard; he leans on his elbows. “Don't know how long I can do this,” he says.

Leonard understands. “Believe me, this will not take long.”

He takes Chris's firm globes in either hand, opens them and, without thinking about it, licks a hot, wet stripe from balls to entrance.

“JESUS FUCK!”

Leonard smiles and then licks again, his tongue circling the small muscle, making Chris howl. He never thought he'd ever do something as _unhygienic_ as this; Jim had told him about rimming and being rimmed once and it made him squirm in discomfort; but the thought secretly turned him the fuck on. He had reamed Jim out for doing it (“How in the _hell_ can you put your tongue there, Jim? Are you looking for an _e.coli_ infection, because that's what can happen, Jim!”)

But now, he is on fire, inflamed by the moans and curses falling from Christopher Pike's sinful mouth. His cock is so hard, so fucking hard, as he licks. He pauses, and then laps at the small hole; each stab of his tongue causes it to flex. Leonard closes his eyes as he lavs, then sucks at it. With each lick and suck, Chris's babbles grow more nonsensical and incoherent. “ _Jesus, god, ohmygod, ohmygod, Len, LenLenLen, LEN! LEN!FUUUUCK!”_

Leonard reaches around and takes Chris's cock in hand and pulls hard on it. Two strokes and Chris comes with a loud cry. He continues to sucks at Chris's hole as the man's entire body shakes in his hands; slowly, Chris slumps and falls to the bed, Leonard's mouth never breaking contact with flesh.

He cannot stand in any more; Leonard sits up suddenly and takes his own throbbing cock in hand. “Fuck fuck, fuck, Chris,” he chants. One, two, three heartbeats--he feels the hot, bright rush of orgasm singing in his blood and, through his fist, he shoots stripe after stripe into Chris's crack, milking his cock for every bit, every drop.   
He sits on trembling feet and calves, and slumps over, his breathing harsh in the quiet room, his cock raw and aching from such a powerful climax. He's barely aware when Chris rolls over, takes his hand, and tugs him down to the bed; he wraps his leg around Leonard's and holds him close.

Their breathing evens out, and contentment steals into every cell of Leonard's body. He feel the delicious pull of sleep and shifts to mold himself to Chris's embrace.

“Ugh.”

Leonard opens one eye and lifts his head to look at Chris. “What?”

“Ugh. It's cold now. And sticky.”

Leonard huffs a short laugh. “Like everything else we do is so sanitary.”

Chris holds him closer. “Don't you dare try to kiss me,” he says in a sly tone into Leonard's hair.

“I won't.” He waits a beat. “Your breath isn't exactly minty fresh.” Chris disengages and rolls out of the bed. “Wait!” Leonard protests. “Where are you going?”

“Mouthwash. Shower. Now. Join me?”

“I don't know if I can move yet.”

“We can glow together in the hot water,” Chris says, holding out his hand. “Make it worth your while.”

“How's that?”

“I can kiss you again for one.” Chris helps him out of bed and onto his feet. “And maybe I'll return the favor.”

Leonard sighs as Chris pulls him to the bathroom. “I don't think I have anything left for you to favor.”

Chris orders the shower at 39 Celsius, and waits for the water to warm. “To answer your earlier question,” Chris says as he cradles Leonard in his arms, “yes. I would love to go to Atlanta and meet your amazing daughter.”

Leonard lifts his head and kisses his cheek.


End file.
